


hata

by ohfreckle



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, non-con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Dark Wold things don't go as planned for Loki.</p><p><i>“How then did you realize it was me?” Loki asks, when all he gets from Thor is silence.</i><br/>“Father would not have let me go.” Thor smiles sadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hata

**Author's Note:**

> My take on what happens after The Dark World. I started this right after the movie came out, but somehow I never found the right words to finish it until now. 
> 
> Thor's actions in this are well-meant but more than questionable, so please don't read on if you're uncomfortable with non-con elements.

The heavy doors clang shut behind Thor and it is not a second too soon. 

Loki closes his eyes and slouches even deeper into Hlidskjalf. For long moments he simply sits and revels in how _right_ it feels to finally be where he belongs, the mighty throne finally his as it should have been so long ago. 

He lets his eyes drift lazily over the destruction that has been wrought upon the palace and thinks of the ruin that he knows lies outside its walls. Nothing like this would have happened under his reign. Asgard would not have been unprotected, would not have been _weak_ with Loki as king instead of an old fool who let the advice of his lovesick son soften him and neglect his vigilance. 

Loki is tempted, oh so _tempted_ to further explore what secrets Hlidskjalf might bear. Already he has glimpsed a look of the past and it served him well. _You once said there could be no wiser king_ – hollow words spoken by his foolish brother not that long ago, but good enough to make the lie in the present all the more convincing. 

A shiver runs through Loki, a sharp ache that would bring him to his knees were he not already seated. He presses a trembling hand to where Kurse pierced his chest, but it bears no relief, not with his magic drained by his efforts to maintain the glamour for Thor. 

His breath shudders out of him, just like it did on that damnable battle field and like then he is still unable to fully heal himself. The beast had been too strong, driven by pure evil and Loki’s magic had been too weak, dampened by the walls of his cage and wearing that damnable collar for too long. 

Loki remembers the life bleeding out of him, only a thin thread of magic and his own will tethering him to this realm. He remembers babbling foolish words and Thor’s cry of anguish, but most of all he remembers being left behind like a broken toy. Endless nights of agony while his battered body tried to mend itself to fuel his rage. 

No, Loki is not weak. He only needs more time. 

*  

“My Lord, I beg of you, you must aid the citizens. The repairs are going slow and the people are waiting for your help.” 

Loki regards the figure kneeling before him. The guard’s head is bent, his fist covering hist heart in the age old gesture of fealty. Not for Loki, not yet, but they will learn to worship him when the time is right. 

“Have you so little concern for your king that you cannot even let him grief for his losses?” 

“Of course not, my–” 

“Out with you then!” 

The heavy doors close behind the guard with a lazy wave of Gungnir, the sound reverberating loudly in the empty hall. 

Solitude. Finally. 

Loki drops the glamour with a sigh and closes his eyes. He turns his mind inward and watches, and with the aid of Hlidskjalf he knows all the things he sees. 

Asgard is being restored, but it goes slowly. Loki knows he must show himself and take matters in hands eventually, but it has been but a few days since the threat has been destroyed. He is getting better already, rest and quiet aiding his recovery. Only a few more days and he will be ready to show Asgard what a true king can do. 

*  

Time heals all wounds, be it stone or flesh. Asgard shines in new splendor and celebrates its wise king. 

Loki’s days are filled with an endless string of requests and his people seeking counsel. He sees to them tirelessly, for he needs Asgard at its height for the great things that are still to come. The things he has _planned_ while he was wasting, no– _rotting_ away in his golden cage, locked away like a common thief and left to die for the second time by the men he once thought to be his family. 

Loki sees it all unfold before his eyes, during the long nights when he slips from Odin’s chambers back into his old rooms. He leafs idly through his old belongings, kept by his mother without a doubt, but Loki will not think about her and what she said to him, not now, not when he can already see Midgard _burn_. 

And while Midgard is always on his mind, it still takes weeks before Loki turns his eyes to London. It was of no importance and it is not now, so he idly wanders back in time. 

He sees Thor hang Mjolnir to a hook on the wall, watches him talk and eat and live with the woman and her friends as if nothing is amiss. Loki knows it is mere days after Thor left his broken body behind, as he knows all the things now, and rage churns in his insides. 

_I’d rather be a good man…_

How dare he talk to Loki like that, jesting and bedding that _sow_ Loki sought to protect with his life so soon after his brother died in his arms. 

And now Loki remembers a different conversation, the look of sorrow on Thor’s face. 

_Did you mourn? – We all did._

Lies, so many lies. They slip so easily from Thor’s tongue and yet it is Loki they call the Silvertongue, the Liesmith. How little they know. 

*  

It is only a small step to look into the present after Loki has learned about the past. 

More and more nights Loki spends watching Thor instead of enjoying the comfort of his old chambers. Loki takes no joy in watching his brother fuck the simpering quim, for that is all they do before she leaves early in the mornings. 

He thought he would be sickened by witnessing Thor’s great love. Instead he watches him wither away into a shadow of his greatness. 

Thor’s days are spent in solitude. He wanders the streets, and even clad in the hideous garb of Midgard and with his golden hair tied back and hidden under a woolen hat, Thor still shines brighter than any of the humans. Sorrow seems to weigh heavily on his shoulders, a drizzle of rain his constant companion. 

Often Thor will look up to the sky, and while his gaze is dull and shadowed it is still seeing, _searching_ , and Loki finds himself shrink back, shaken to his core by it. He refuses to think it is dread or—it cannot be—sentiment that fills his chest, but he has no answer to what it is that nests there like a living thing. It gnaws at him, like a small hunger at first until it grows into an unbearable famine with every day he spends Thor watching the sky. 

The answer finally comes to him in a dream. 

Loki sees his younger self, excitedly sharing his latest accomplishment with Thor. He remembers Mother’s proud smile as she watches him best Thor with the quick flicks of his dagger she taught him earlier that morning. He sees himself practice all day and try to beat Thor again, and he can still feel the sting of Odin’s silent disapproval as the next time Thor anticipates and parries his every move with graceful ease. 

But not this time. Thor left him for dead, he cannot know that it is Loki sitting on the throne and watching him. This time Loki did not show his hand and this time he will succeed. He will show everyone that he was born to be king and that he is _worthy_. Unlike Thor Loki has learned from his past failures and with that knowledge he can finally breathe again. 

Watching Thor is easier now. Loki spends many nights idly roaming the realms but always he returns to London, looking after Thor and how he starts to wander the streets even at night, the small drizzle of rain changing into nights of storm and thunder, and he almost pities him. 

With his greatest wish granted Thor is miserable and wretched, bound to a woman who will never be able to truly understand him and his sacrifice. _Alone_. Betrayed by his own foolish desires and choices he lost everything that was truly dear to him. 

All of that finally belongs to Loki. He lets his eyes roam over the throne room, comforted by the stillness of it just before dawn, and watches the first light of morning battle away the shadows of the night, grateful for a few more minutes of solitude and being himself before his day as the Allfather begins. 

* 

When the rain finally stops, it is so sudden the silence of its absence startles Loki from his sleep. For long moments he just lies there with his heart pounding before he makes himself rise and hurry to the throne room. But for the first time Hlidskjalf bears no answers and leaves him without the comfort of knowledge, telling him only what in his heart he already knows. 

Thor is gone. 

* 

It takes three days for Thor to return. 

Three days Loki spends searching for him in vain, even though he does not leave Hlidskjalf for longer than mere minutes. He lets his mind search every hidden place in all the realms, travels all the secret paths known to gods and men even when he falls asleep, but Thor stays hidden from his sight. 

Damn the fool, damn him thrice. Even now the witless oaf is crossing Loki’s plans, for what good is it to let Thor’s precious Midgard burn if he is not there to witness its demise. 

Loki does not want Thor dead. He wants him broken and defeated, wants him begging for mercy; mercy Loki will never be able to grant because he was never allowed the luxury to learn the meaning of it. 

Three days that Loki spends searching day and night while Jane eats ice cream and sleeps away the days in Thor’s worn shirt. And yet it is her embrace Thor is seeking upon his return. 

* 

“It is late. Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning.” 

Loki sighs wearily and slumps into his golden seat. He is tired after three sleepless nights and drudging days, but he finds himself too restless to sleep and so once again he seeks the comfort only Hlidskjalf seems to provide. 

The loud clang of the doors should have alerted him that it is no guard who has entered the room. Fatigue is his only excuse, but it is of no help when a heavy hand clasps his shoulder before he is enveloped in a tight embrace. 

“Am I not welcome anymore, _father?_ ” 

Loki’s glamour vanishes at the first touch of Thor’s hand. He feels it melt from his skin like frost touched by the sun, carelessly brushed aside like it never was of importance at all. 

For a long moment he is petrified with the feeling of being caught, and that is all the time Thor needs. There is a silent snick and Loki’s throat burns, a searing pain that leaves him breathless and weak in the knees before it vanishes just as quickly as it came. The only thing left behind is a faint weight against his collarbone, pulsing warmly against his skin, soft, almost like a lover’s caress. 

The shock of it finally spurs Loki into action. It takes all the strength he can muster, but he manages to break out of Thor’s traitorous embrace with a kick to his knee, and Loki’s pride forbids him to think that he only succeeds because Thor allows it, having already accomplished his goal. 

“I knew it was you,” Thor offers calmly, as if it would explain everything. 

“You _knew_ ,” Loki hisses, spittle flying from his lips. He is furious, body shaking with the sudden rage that threatens to overwhelm him. All his carefully laid out plans– gone with just a single touch. 

“You know nothing. _You left me._ You left behind your whole kingdom just so you can fuck that mortal cunt. And now you come back and think you can put another collar on me?” 

Loki hates how he cannot keep his voice from trembling, how he has already given away too much with those few words that seemed to pour from his mouth almost against his will. 

He claws viciously at the collar around his throat in an attempt to get it off. Green sparks are flickering against his skin, the burn enough to startle him. His magic flows freely despite the cursed thing, and when Loki strokes his fingers over it he notices that it is nothing like the monstrosity Odin had Thor put on him. This one is thin and light, almost weightless, and while Loki cannot see it he thinks it must look delicate, elegant like a necklace. A pretty thing, but a trap nonetheless with its missing clasp, taking away his choice to be rid of it. 

“Aye, I left you and there was not a single hour since then that I have not regretted it.” 

Thor has released his hold on Loki, but he still stands close enough for their chests to touch, caging Loki between his body and the throne. He is looking at Loki just like he looked at the sky just a few days ago, quiet and sad, sorrow darkening his eyes and for a moment it stirs the foolish old hope in Loki that this time he means it. 

“Then why did you not come back,” Loki spits. With nowhere to go he hurls the words at Thor, his only weapon. He sees every one piercing Thor like a dagger, unerringly finding its target, but the brief sense of satisfaction he feels is gone with the blink of an eye and all that is left is a weariness that chills him to the bone. 

_I needed you_ Loki wants to shout. His chest aches with the remembered pain of his body trying to mend itself, the overwhelming sense of having failed again and _again_ , how he sent his mother’s death to her and could not even avenge her whom he loved so dearly. He thinks back to the losses he could only allow himself to mourn in those dark hours, grief for his mother, grief for his brother and lover. 

Grief for himself. 

But those dark hours are long gone, buried deep and forgotten, a weakness never to be remembered. 

Or so Loki thought. 

“What kind of trickery is this,” Loki whispers, horrified. He curls trembling fingers around the collar, tearing hard enough at it to split his skin. 

“The truth,” Thor says calmly. His fingers are warm against Loki’s own, gently disentangling Loki’s fingers from the unyielding collar and Loki lets him, numb and inexplicably afraid. 

“The collar will let you speak only the truth,” Thor explains, his thumb rubbing circles against Loki’s wrist, like he would soothe a frightened child. “You may choose not to speak at all, but there will be no more lies. Not to me, and not to yourself.” 

“You fool, what have you done,” Loki croaks, unable to stop his voice from breaking. This is worse than having his magic locked away, a thousand times and over. Only the Norns possess the power to forge something this powerful and their services cost dearly. Loki gasps with the dread that suddenly fills him, the weight of the choices that are now taken from him. 

“Brother,” Thor says, and Loki snarls at the expression and the warmth that fills him at hearing it after such a long time. “I have wronged you, more than once, but I never intended to hurt you. I do not know why you deny me forgiveness, why you scorn me and refuse my amends. I gladly bear it as my punishment for my mistakes, but I will no longer let others suffer for the things you choose to believe.” 

“The things I _choose_ to believe? Call me a liar, Thor, but do not call me a fool!” 

“Then why did you betray me—all of us, Loki? Why do you seek to enslave innocent people, why all this senseless destruction?” Thor grates out. He squeezes Loki’s shoulder hard, looming over him like a great and angry shadow, but this is not why Loki is frightened. 

“Do you really want the throne that much?” Thor asks. He cups a hand around Loki’s neck and Loki cannot help but to be comforted by the familiar gesture. Thor shakes him, but it is soft, imploring, and while the blue of his eyes is dulled by defeat, he still looks at Loki earnestly, as if Loki’s answer still matters. 

"You know I never wanted the throne,” Loki replies. 

_I only ever wanted to be your equal_ is what he does not say. The words are familiar, well worn and fitting like a favorite garment, but only now Loki realizes just how much truth they hold. “Only you and your father never believed me.” And there is truth in that as well. 

“How then did you realize it was me?” Loki asks, when all he gets from Thor is silence. 

“Father would not have let me go.” Thor smiles sadly. His large hand is a warm weight against Loki’s neck, his fingers curling tighter, keeping Loki close. 

As if Loki has anywhere left to go now. No matter what he has done for Asgard during this short and ill-fated reign, it will not matter once Thor will reveal his deception. 

“I _felt_ it was you”, Thor says, so low Loki can barely hear him, despite their closeness. “As long as I can remember I have _always_ felt you, except for those days after I thought I had lost you again.” 

“And what is better than a new toy after the old one is broken,” Loki bites out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he even knows it. Too much, again he is revealing too much and Loki will never forgive Thor for doing this to him. 

Thor laughs, but it is not the carefree laugh Loki remembers. It is an ugly sound, bitter and sharp, dark like something that might erupt out of Loki’s chest. 

“I wish it was so easy.” 

Thor’s breath shatters and Loki watches helplessly, the pain of the simple words echoing in his body until he trembles with it. 

“I love Jane, but I cannot love her _enough_ , not the way she deserves when it is you who is in my heart and in my blood, when it is you who makes my body burn.” 

If Loki were a different man he would pretend to feel regret for causing Thor’s pain. But he is no such man, and instead of repentance it is only joy that fills him at Thor’s confession, something warm and light he has not felt for so long, not since before they rode to Jotunheim. 

“If you expect me to be sorry for that you are more of a fool than I thought,” Loki murmurs. 

“No, I did not think you were. You taught me that much a long time ago,” Thor sighs warily, defeated. “Then tell me, what is it that you want, Loki?” 

Loki thinks about it for long moments, and he finds he has no answer for Thor and that is what frightens him most. All he sees is himself standing in a vast sea of nothingness. He is lost, but he is not alone, anchored by a single light that warms and comforts him. 

With his lies and half-truths taken from him, Loki has no choice but to accept the truth. 

He loves Thor. 

A love so encompassing he feels crippled with it. It is the only love he has ever known beyond the love of a child for its mother. The love of a friend, a sibling and a lover. It consumes Loki, burns even hotter than the hatred and envy that always lurks inside his heart; a blessing and a curse, his greatest weakness. 

Loki can no longer deny this truth, but he is not ready to admit it and so he stays silent and refuses to feel grateful for this small mercy the collar allows him. 

”I would have gladly shared the throne with you, you must know that,” Thor whispers. His eyes slide closed and his hand slips from Loki’s neck, taking with him Loki’s sole source of warmth, making Loki feel oddly bereft. 

This close he can almost count the faint freckles dotting Thor’s skin and the golden lashes fanning his cheeks, clumped with wetness. 

Can almost believe he means it. 

”Liar.” 

Thor’s eyes snap open, alight with the same anger Loki has seen time and time again through the centuries. Loki has enough sense to be wary of Thor in a state like this, but trapped as he is, there is nowhere for him to go. 

”You will not call me a liar, I will not have it,” Thor says, his voice low and firm. He’s crowding in on Loki until Hlidskjalf’s sharp edge cuts into his calves, his hands coming to rest on Loki’s shoulders, pressing down. The same look of grim determination Loki remembers from their last journey has settled over Thor’s features. 

Loki’s knees almost buckle under Thor’s heavy weight on him and now he is afraid, truly afraid. He struggles against Thor, twisting and turning in Thor’s relentless grasp, gasping out a string of _Nonono_ , but to no avail. 

Loki’s breath catches with the onlaught of pictures that fill his head the second he meets the unforgiving hardness of Hlidskjalf’s seat. They are not the truths he has been seeking for himself but memories, coming unbidden to his mind; wounds never healed, still fresh and raw from Loki tearing at them over and over during long nights between the realms and in his lonely prison. 

_A battle in Jotunheim, just a few years back, although it seems like lifetime ago. — ”Know your place, brother.”_

Foolish words, spoken in haste and without thought by a boy who had yet to become a man. Careless and hurtful, but never intended to cut the way they did. 

_Another battle, on top of a nameless mountain in Midgard. ”Did you mourn?” — ”We all did.”_

Loki looks at Odin, sitting in the very same place, sombre and quiet. Frigga, visiting his chambers every day, hoping that he might have found a way home. Loki sees Thor, the shock and anguish on his face right after Loki fell. He watches Thor wandering the halls, his face drawn and weary, returning to the bifrost every night, searching for his brother. 

Now Loki truly knows all the things. 

Unbidden truths that should be heartening, but Loki wants none of them. 

Half of his life lost to bitterness and rage when there was rarely a true reason for it; a myriad of opportunities for happiness lost because he was too bitter, too proud to reach for them. 

Loki weeps silently. 

He wants to cry and shout and curse the Norns for turning on him once again; anything to dull the sharp pain of loss that pierces his heart, but the collar will not allow him to lay his own blame on others any longer. 

”Why,” Loki whispers when he has wept all the tears he has left. ”Why did you come back, why now? To punish me?” 

Thor sits next to him, his hand unerringly finding its place on Loki’s neck. Only a slight tremor betrays that he feels any of Hlidskjalf’s power. Loki wonders what he sees. 

”Because you were lost, brother,” Thor says, his voice so fragile Loki barely recognizes it. ”Because by losing yourself you were also lost to me, and I could bear it no longer. I came to take what’s mine, the throne and the burden that comes with it, and if you will have it, I would like to share it with you.” 

”Fath… Odin—” Loki starts, but Thor shakes his head, his mouth set in a grim line. Loki acquieces silently. There are only so many things even Thor will be able to forgive, better not to let Odin stand between them just yet. 

Thor’s kiss is soft, just a press of lips, warm and dry. It is an offer for so many things, and this time Loki takes it and returns it with trembling lips. 

Thor is not smiling when he breaks the kiss, but it is there in his eyes, a faint glimmer of hope for happier days. Loki cannot share his hope, not now, but he is willing to try. If only… 

”Take it off, Thor,” Loki says. ”Please.” 

”No, Loki,” Thor says, stroking the smooth gold around Loki’s neck. He cups Loki’s cheek with his free hand, his thumb wiping away the wetness that still clings to Loki’s skin. ”I love you, brother, but I cannot trust you. Not yet.” 

* 

Everything burns. 

Thor’s lips against his own, the collar against his skin. For now there is nothing Loki can do about it, but he can try again tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is much appreciated! For updates, snippets and whinings on my fics, feel free to add me on [tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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